Emergent Patterns

Nature offered up a rich supply of wonders during a walk earlier this week, among which was this enormous spider, its web spun downwind of a seeding bush—the seeds themselves the shape of spiders, designed to loft through the air, land with a grip, find what they need to propagate. One of the things I like best about accumulating years within my lived experience (also known as aging) is the opportunity to witness and then assemble an expanding array of disparate pieces that often emerge into patterns—and not just among physical forms, but across the developmental arc within a person’s individual life, or spanning generations of families, or  encircling social and historical constructs.

Similar to nature’s bounty, cherished social interactions have been abundant this week, and I find myself awash in a swirl of thought and emotion, my introversion that took welcome shelter in pandemic quarantine still adjusting to the pace and quantity of in-person connections in a more fully functioning world. Between all the writing I’ve done for my program this week and all the listening and talking I’ve engaged in with colleagues, friends, and family, most of my words have leaked out through the porosity of interest and empathy, and I know that I need to refill my energies of mind, heart, and body in solitary physical and spiritual practice.